


i'll show you all that I am

by majicienne



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25742146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majicienne/pseuds/majicienne
Summary: 1: The Terminator AU2: Jaime goes to Tarth after the war (show verse)3: Roomate AU.4: Jaime marries Brienne in the Quiet Isle (book verse).5: Smallville AU.6: Smallville AU 2.Or the adventures of I couldn't pick prompts so I did all of them... twice.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 74
Kudos: 91
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020





	1. the white dove for a soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelowl/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Terminator unit marked T-2766 was deployed the year 2049 with the Prime Directive of finding and killing Jaime Lannister.

The Terminator unit marked T-2766 was deployed the year 2049 with the Prime Directive of finding and killing Jaime Lannister. His daughter, Joanna, was the spark that had ignited the rebellion. A blue-eyed mastermind, she had developed a technology that allowed her to hack into the Terminator database. If they wanted to succeed in stopping her, they had to stop her from ever being born.

They had no records on who Joanna’s mother was. Only that she had been raised by her father and uncle. The Lannister brothers had turned her into an unstoppable force.

T-2766 knew about being a force. Standing at 6’3, she was built and trained as a weapon. A killing machine, always ready.

When she arrived to the year 2019, she was immediately faced with an unforeseen complication: Jaime Lannister was not where her intel indicated he should be. Records had him working at Lannister Co., being tutored by his father to take over the empire. But he wasn’t there. She marked his sister and brother both. It was not listed that the twins had apparently been lovers.

Now, Terminator units did not, normally, have a moral drive, but she had been installed a more complex program due to the nature of her mission, and she felt something that she catalogued as disgust when she saw how Cersei Lannister tried to contact her missing brother. The mixture of false pleading and real demands were enough to convince her that the other woman didn’t know where her twin was. She dropped that lead and followed Tyrion Lannister.

That was far more productive. Her upgraded vision deemed Tyrion Lannister smarter than his sister and equally power-hungry. However, he was wasting valuable time every day on what the registry marked as an empty building.

That was the give-away. An empty flat could be either some shady side-business (he owned two brothels from his Lannister Co. office, so not that) or a mistress (he had a hidden wife that he visited on the weekends). But an entire building? That had to be the place where Jaime Lannister was hiding.

She had her mark.

Capturing Jaime Lannister was harder than she expected, since she had not counted on the others. The sheer amount of people that were after him was surprising. First there were the Starks, who T-2766 thought had the right to their vengeance but the wrong Lannister to exercise it on. Not that it mattered, she had a mission to complete. There were also the people his twin had looking for him, people who wanted to collect blood or money from his father. She killed a few of them before striking. How had he stayed alive for so long? 

The answer came when she attacked. He heard her coming. Lannister was _good_. His aim was almost perfect and if they had been sparring, T-2766 would have drawn it out, for training purposes. His hand-to-hand combat was also exemplary.

“What kind of beast are you, wench?” Lannister spat after shooting her square in the chest and not stopping her. “Who sent you?” He had, correctly, read that she was stronger than him; he was hoping to tire her out by forcing her to go into the offensive. “Are you mute or just stupid?” 

That’s when they were interrupted.

The Bloody Mummers were a local gang that T-2766 had not counted as a threat because they were extremely disorganized. That had been her first mistake. Her only mistake.

The blow to her head had left an opening on her cheek, leaving a mess of wires and titanium exposed. She covered it with some bandages she found inside the flat Jaime Lannister had been living in. A cursory glance found it was a miserable thing. There was no furniture whatsoever except a laptop, a mattress with some blankets, and a mini fridge. How the mighty had fallen.

She ran after them, not bothering to hide her face, humans never noticed anything.

Tracing them was, as expected, ridiculously easy. She was also too late.

“What are you doing?!” Jaime Lannister screamed. “No! No!” The switchblade came down.

“Stop!” T-2766, yelled. While striking to disarm and kill them she noticed that Lannister was lying on the floor, blood pooling from his injured hand.

She should have finished him, she had to finish him. But some part of her rebelled against it. It was dirty, what they’d done to him. It was torture. Those fools did not deserve the deaths she’d gifted them.

Lannister had fought her with honor. With skill. They had robbed him of the last one and she found that killing him now felt unfair. Unfair?

Felt?

There had to be a bug on her program. Her scanners revealed optimal functionality, except on her facial tissue.

“Kill me,” Jaime Lannister demanded. “Just fucking kill me!” Tears were running down his face. T-2766 cauterized his wound instead.

“No,” she replied. “No, you must live. Live and take revenge.”

T-2766 was definitely malfunctioning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had never even seen the Terminator movies before this and now I am an expert on their biology and James Cameron says they can have sex. So.


	2. the sound of love’s arriving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brienne”. Her name, a caress. Jaime dared not touch her. “Brienne.”

Jaime’s sword felt heavy at his hip. Mayhaps he was too old to keep carrying it. Mayhaps he should have left it behind, amidst the rubble of Kingslanding, next to the corpse of his sweet sister.

He should not have gone back, but he had to. Not out of love, he had not loved Cersei as his lover for a really long time. Neither did he want her. Jaime saw her clearly for the first time since they were children: She was cruel and mad. And she had never loved him. He knew.

He still went back. Because she was pregnant. He wanted to save her for the child, and mayhaps they could save her. She loved her children.

When he got there, he was too late. There had been no child, or it wasn’t his, or it was, and she lost it. She did not seem to know the truth from lie, at the end. Not that it mattered, she chose to die at the throne. “I bought it with blood. I’ll keep it by fire,” she had whispered. That’s when Jaime understood. The Wildfire.

He had left her there, the spiteful “Kingslayer, Oatbreaker, Half-of-my-Soul” echoing in his mind.

He had stopped the destruction of Kingslanding for the second time. The cost had been his twin’s life.

It was odd how after that, all he cared about was Brienne. He begged information of Tyrion, but his little brother claimed ignorance.

When the Northern party arrived and Sansa was crowned as queen, Jaime asked for an audience, hoping to see her sworn sword. To talk to her, touch her.

“Lady Sansa-” he began, only to be interrupted by Tyrion. “It’s ‘your grace’, now, sweet brother,” he toasted the Wolf.

“Your grace, I wanted to know, what has become of Ser Brienne? Is she ill?” He couldn’t imagine anything less likely. His wench was too stubborn, too honorable to shrink her duties.

“Ser Brienne’s whereabouts are none of your concern, Ser Jaime,” she said his name, but she meant _Kingslayer_ , it was plain to hear. 

“I must know if she is-” Jaime stopped himself. What did he want to know? If she was alive? Did she hate him? Could she love him, again?

“She lives,” Sansa conceded.

“Where is she?” He had to go get her. He owed it to her, like he had owed it to Cersei. But, more than that, he wanted her. Jaime missed her. Her moulin face, the stubborn set of her mouth, the way she smiled, softly. He loved her.

“If Brienne wanted you to know where she is, she would have sent you a raven,” Sansa bit out.

 _If Brienne wanted you_.

“I will not betray her trust.” The Queen said. _Unlike you._

In the end, he sailed to Tarth urged by Tyrion. It seemed the most logical choice, considering Sansa’s frigid silence. The travel went smoothly, and they had touched ground under a bright night. The stars were shinning above him, their reflection in the darkened waters guiding his way.

Jaime saw Brienne, waiting. She was wearing armor, the Evenstar’s sigil carved into her chest. Oathkeeper called to him, almost as much as she did.

His feet echoed softly in the sand, the quiet engulfing him.

“Brienne”. Her name, a caress. Jaime dared not touch her. “Brienne.”

“What are you doing here, Ser Jaime?” Oh, how he loathed the _ser_ from her mouth.

“What are _you_ doing here, my lady?” He counterattacked. “Do you often take evening strolls wearing full armor?”

“I live here, ser”. The wench could not even say his name over her anger. “I am the new Evenstar. I ask you, what are you doing here?” There was something fleeting over her face. Mayhaps some other would have been fooled by the armor, by her bite. Jaime knew her too well for that. She was afraid.

“I came to beg mercy of you, wench”. He smiled up at her.

“Don’t call me that!” Anger made her uglier. Her skin went blotchy and her freckles stood out. _Lovely._ He did love her. “How dare you? How dare you come into my home? After leaving? After everything?” She had Oathkeeper by the hilt.

Jaime longed to spar against her again. To match her strike by strike. To move into her. He wanted to hear their blades kissing.

“I dare because I want to explain myself,” He was not smiling anymore. He grabbed her by the arms. She lurched, predictably, against his grip. “Brienne, _please._ ”

She let her head fall. Her hair was not long enough to hide her tears. “You _left_ , Jaime.”

He did his best to explain, holding her against his chest. He told her he was honor-bound to try and save his sister. He was as guilty as Cersei. He needed to take responsibility for his past sins.

He touched her face with his stump. “All I want now is to be yours, wench. I am yours. To spar, to hold.”

“I am afraid, Jaime. I could not bear to give myself to you only to lose you to someone else.” Her eyes, her beautiful eyes, shone with tears. Jaime had a latent loathing for himself, but he had never felt it as sharply as in that moment. Mayhaps when he rode away from her. Mayhaps then. 

“Brienne, I give you all that I am,” he gave a humorless grin. “As little as it is, now.”

She looked up, sharply, ready to defend him from himself, probably. Jaime’s hand was still around her hip, and he let her go. The only point of contact between them was his stump on her cheek.

He trailed it down her neck, touching her shoulder where he knew the scars left by the bear were.

Brienne lifted both hands, grabbed his maimed arm, and she touched her lips softly to the scarred tissue. 

Jaime gasped every time she did that. His wench.

Their breathings matched, evening out. Bodies remembering.


	3. need to love someone beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was true. It was the worst part of it. He sat there, twinkling at her, beautiful and radiant and he never lied to her.

Brienne Tarth was ugly. The sky was blue, the ocean was wet, and Brienne was ugly. It was a matter of fact. She was also strong, capable, determined, and a million other things. Unfortunately, Brienne had an awful weakness: She always fell for beautiful men.

This was bad in any context, truly, but it was worse when you were a huge, brutish oaf. It went from bad to terrible when she met Jaime Lannister.

The first time they saw each other at a Stark’s party that Jaime hated he had called her a “beast of a woman”. The next day, while miserably hungover, Jaime proclaimed her “much uglier in daylight”. So, he basically broke her heart before even meeting her.

Then they had survived a horrible experience while working under Vargo Hoat, who months later had been fired after a sexual scandal. They even decided to quit Lannister Inc. together.

Now, Brienne knew herself as well as she knew Jaime. They were polar opposites in almost everything. She was the moon and he was the sun. So, when Jaime said they should move in together her first instinct was to say no. She needed to protect herself. But he had been so open and vulnerable when explaining why he didn’t want to be his family’s puppet anymore... It was rare for Jaime to let himself be seen. And that display of trust was what doomed her.

Then, after a couple of months of almost-blissful cohabitation (after both of them worked on some hang-ups and Brienne stablished physical boundaries), Jaime sent a text that read: “gotta talk 2 u.” She assumed he was moving out.

She hoped that it was because he wanted a flat where he could take the girls that were constantly throwing themselves at him. As long as he had not realized that she was hopelessly in love with him. Anything but that.

When she got to the flat, the place was spotless. That had never, ever, happened. There was also food on the table, which was the second giveaway that something was wrong. But the final thing that convinced her of the doomsday scenario was that Jaime was wearing one of his best white shirts _and_ he had pressed it.

 _He is breaking up with me_. She thought, ridiculously.

“Hey, you are home!” His voice sounded weird, too. Strangled. “There’s some wine if you want some.”

“What’s wrong?” Brienne blurted without any grace.

“Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?” The mask was up. He was all golden confidence. “Sometimes a man wants to make dinner for his best friend.” He shrugged and went back to whatever he had in the frying pan.

“You’re too old for a _best friend_ , Jaime.” Brienne rolled her eyes. She felt more comfortable when they bantered. Even if there was still an anxious knot on her stomach.

“You wound me, what else would I call us?” He mocked gasped while turning the fire down and twisting to see her fully.

“Roommates, if you must.” She smiled a bit wobbly at him.

Jaime looked disappointed at her answer. But turned the smile back on before she could ask.

“Well, _roomie_ , you have to agree I’m too old for that, too.” He walked to the table and plopped down on his chair.

“So you _are_ moving out,” Brienne said, more to herself than to him.

“What?!” Jaime looked angry. “Do you _want_ me to move out?”

“No! I just-” he did not let her finish.

“What do you think is happening here?”

“Oh, piss off, Jaime. You obviously want your own space so you can fuck Melara or Melanie or whatever her name is in peace. I get it. You do not have to get all defensive about it!” She almost yelled.

Jaime, inexplicably, burst out laughing. “You… are… so… dumb,” he got out. There was something very fond on his tone, so she gave him the opportunity to explain himself. Frowning and blushing at the same time, she stayed silent.

“I love you, you fool.”

The words hit her straight in the chest. Like a wound. She stood up. “Jaime, how could you fucking joke about that?” After she had told him of Connington, of the fucking bet. “Go!”

He stood there, the laughter frozen awkwardly on his face. “Come on, roomie,” he was biting again. “You know me better than that.”

It was true. It was the worst part of it. He sat there, twinkling at her, beautiful and radiant and he never lied to her.

“I love you,” she warned.

“Do you? I thought you barely liked me, since you did not want to be my best friend.” He smirked and stood up. Inching his way towards where she was. Brienne could not move. She could barely breathe.

Jaime was in front of her. He put his hands around the nape of her neck, so she was looking down at him. His next words were a whisper, a breath away from her lips. “Would you like to be my girlfriend, instead?”

She kissed him instead of replying. It was clumsy, she put too much force behind it, but if the way he had risen on his toes and was pushing against her was any indication, then he wanted her, too.

“You are too old to be anyone’s _boyfriend_.” She said, after some time, when they had parted for air.

She could feel his puffs of laughter against her wet lips. His eyes were stilled closed and he was achingly beautiful.

“Partner, then. Significant other. Soul mate.” They were on the couch, with him on top of her. Dinner had gone cold and his shirt was crumpled. Her hands kept trailing his hair while his touched her face.

She grimaced. “How about Jaime?”

He kissed her again. “Your Jaime.”

Hers.


	4. love is our defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime had been furious at the wench. A blind rage at her betrayal had carried him through his encounter with the resurrected corpse of Catelyn Stark.
> 
> At least, until he saw the rope marks on her neck.

Jaime had been furious at the wench. A blind rage at her betrayal had carried him through his encounter with the resurrected corpse of Catelyn Stark.

At least, until he saw the rope marks on her neck.

“They gave her a choice,” Hyle Hunt explained, resentful. “Sword or noose. She chose to hang.”

“Until she felt how awful it is to die that way?” Jaime asked. He did not care for her reasons. The beast of a woman had lured him to his death. He had left his command and his men, in the middle of a tactical attack. He had burned the letter his sweet sister had sent. Followed her blindly because he trusted her. Brienne. The most honorable person he knew.

“Until they hung the boy.” The knight spat at him. “She would have died for you, _Kingslayer_.”

Jaime ignored the name. _A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep_. He was too shaken by the sentence that preceded it.

No one had ever done such a thing for Jaime. He was the one who gave everything. Gave himself to Cersei. Defended Tyrion. Balance his family’s ambitions… so many oaths. They made him swear oath after oath, contradicting ones. He was tasked with protecting the innocent and he had done it twice. By slaying Aerys he had spared Kingslanding. And by shouting _sapphires_ he had spared Brienne.

Still, never before had his actions been met with gratitude, or grace. It was what was expected of him, to save, to give. That time, the wench had given him life. Ordering him to live. She had called him craven. Twice now, he had upended his life for her. Once to live. Now to change. A second birth when he left his command and burnt his _sister’s_ letter. Who was that man? A man that cared not for a woman and yet chose to leave everything behind for her? He had Pod on his horse, the lad was asleep against the mare’s neck, sitting in front of Jaime. He had lighter rope burns. With some luck they would not scar.

Guilt tasted like blood.

Brienne was dying. The stupid, stubborn wench was so beaten it was a miracle she drew breath at all.

“What happened to her?” He asked. Hunt looked at him like Cersei did, sometimes, like he was unbelievable stupid. “Before,” Jaime clarified.

“She tried to save a handful of children from being raped and killed.” Hyle looked at Brienne, draped around a horse with something in his eyes that Jaime did not want to identify. “She took on seven, by Pod’s telling of it. She doesn’t speak of it, but she has nightmares sometimes. About teeth.”

The wench had been _savaged_. That much was clear. Selfless fool. Why did she throw her life away on anyone and everything?

_You sent her to it. You made her responsible of your honor and when she made the same choice as you did: you condemned her._

Blame was twisting in his stomach. Pod began to stir in front of him.

“Are we nearly to the Isle, ser?” He asked Hyle. Jaime felt a flicker of annoyance.

“What will the Brothers say when you bring her back in this state?” He wondered aloud.

“M’lady Ser is strong.” Pod said with absolute conviction. “The monks will see that.”

* * *

Podrick’s childish wisdom proved true, to an extent. Elder Brother refused them entrance to Brienne’s cabin. “Only her family may be with her,” He said, unwavering.

Jaime looked at the crying Pod next to him and thought the rule was absurd.

“I’ll marry her,” Hunt said. There was something tense around his eyes that Jaime did not like. “I was going to, anyway.”

“That’s not true!” Pod defended the heavily sedated Brienne between tears. “M’lady ser has not accepted Ser Hyle,” and then softly, “but I don’t want her to be all alone.” He kept sobbing pitifully.

Jaime saw red. The idea that this man would presume to know the wench enough to marry her without her consent was absurd. Before he could demonstrate the point with his sword, however, the screams began.

Jaime had never heard Brienne scream. Cry in battle, yes. But not like that.

Pod threw himself at the door but was stopped by two brothers. “Let him in!” Hyle exclaimed at the same time as Jaime did. “He will just be in the way,” Elder Brother continued past them. “We need to tend to her wounds, or would you prefer I let the lad in, just to watch her die?” It was a brutal rebuke. Pod sat with his back to the cabin’s wall and wept with his head between his hands. 

Jaime sat down next to him. Hyle Hunt said he was going to look for food and left them to it. _Such devotion._ Jaime thought, snidely. _Such tender care. I should have let him marry her._

“It will be fine, Pod.” Jaime smiled, a sad smile. “The wench is built so heavily, she is practically immortal.”

Pod’s tears were slowing down. “I used to think so, m’lord,” he paused. “I thought m’lady ser was the best knight I’d ever seen… No offense, m’lord!” The lad added quickly. “But she’s been through so much in so little time… I wonder if it wouldn’t be a relief for her. To rest. She never rests.”

Jaime was furious at the idea of a dead Brienne. Not merely angry, he also found out that he could not bear the idea of a world where she wasn’t alive. Alive and pig-headed.

There was no truer knight. No kinder, braver woman. No, Brienne should live. Live and learn, as she had made him do.

She’d been quiet the past moments but then the screams came again. Coherent this time. It was worse. So much worse.

“Jaime! I need my sword!” There was an unintelligible break. “Please! He trusted me! _Jaime_!”

The man in question barreled through the door.

“Ser Jaime! Only family may-”

There were three monks inside. Elder Brother was tending to her wounds, while two others attempted to hold her still while she shook.

“Marry us,” Jaime pleaded, without thinking “Please. I needs must stay with her.”

“Why?” Elder Brother wasn’t looking at him, he was uncovering the gash on her cheek. Except it was no gash. There were deep, uneven holes. _What weapon did this?_

**_She doesn’t speak of it, but she has nightmares sometimes. About teeth_.**

Jaime wanted to be sick. He wanted to have his sword-hand back to find the animal that had hurt her like this.

 _It was you. Your honor. Your sword. Kingslayer’s Whore they call her. It’s_ because _of you._

“Why?” Jaime repeated. “Why! See how she cries!” _Were they stupid?_ “She’s calling my _name_!”

“Please!” Brienne begged, pitifully. “My sword! I need to find his honor!”

Jaime felt his heart shatter inside his chest. He had never felt unworthier. But any measure of comfort he could give her he would. Brienne would live. He would bid her to live, as she had done him.

He forcefully removed the two monks and held her down himself.

“Listen to me, wench.” He ordered, a commander again. “You are surviving this. You are not allowed to die.” His voice seemed to be working in calming her. “You need to live. Pod needs you. Those children you saved, they need you.” He paused, she sobbed. “I don’t know if we’ll ever find the Stark girls but we have to try. We promised, wench. You promised.” Jaime felt her body go limp under his hand and stump.

“No! No, Brienne! You can’t die. You wouldn’t _let_ me die when I wanted to.” Elder Brother had tasked the other brothers with boiling more wine and fetching him fresh clothe and was now listening to Jaime’s tirade.

“You can’t die because I need you to wake up so I can tell you-” Jaime’s voice broke. “No. I won’t say it.” He raged against the injustice of it. He was supposed to die in the arms of the woman he loved. Not the other way around. She could not go first. “You hear me, wench?” He gave her a small shake, bearing her weight in his anger. “I won’t say it. And if you die, I will never say it!”

Elder Brother eased his vice-like grip and pulled at his other shoulder to disengage his stump. “Don’t touch me! I won’t leave her!” The other man raised his hands in surrender.

“I’ll do it, Ser Jaime.”

“Do what, you bloody fool? You’re supposed to be saving her.”

“I’ll marry you two.”

Everything stopped.

“I can see the love you have for Lady Brienne is true.” Elder Brother explained. “I have never met such a well-loved lady, both by you and that lad. I have done everything in my power to aid her and if her fever breaks, I’ll expect she’ll live. But the wounds were already infected when you arrived… I don’t know your story, ser. But if you want to stay with her, in what might be her last night, I’ll marry you.”

Jaime rebelled at the possibility of Brienne dying with such fury that he almost did not accept the offer. A larger part of him refused to leave her side. He kneeled before her on the bed and grabbed her left hand on his.

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Began Elder Brother, Jaime had no cloak to give her, only his devotion and a clumsy off-hand. Elder Brother did not tie their hands but Jaime, who had never cared much for weddings, slid two fingers under her bandaged wrist.

“Let it be known that Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

_Curse you, Stranger, if you take her from me. Curse you._

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon her, Ser Jaime and say the words.” She could not say them back. If she could, Jaime was unsure if she’d say them. But he meant these vows, so he spoke for Brienne and him both and pledged: “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Jaime took a shuddering breath. “With this kiss, I pledge my love,” And leaned over her sleeping form, thanking whichever god watched over her for the milk of the poppy and the healer’s hands. He held his lips against her forehead, willing the skin he touched to work. To heal.

Afterwards, Elder Brother left. He spoke no more. Jaime fetched Pod, because the rules could hang, the lad deserved to be there for the only mother he ever knew.

When the boy fell asleep, tired of crying and worrying, Jaime stood vigil. Brienne’s breath was a tenuous thing and he cherished the sound in his heart. He evened his own breathing, so she’d follow. Not that the wench had ever done what Jaime wanted her to do. They stayed close together, breathing, that fateful night that changed everything.


	5. feel the waves crash down inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you a woman?” The Lannister heir said, way too derisively for a man that looked like a drowned cat. A beautiful and magnificent cat but, still. “Or a cryptid?”

Brienne never regretted saving lives. Her father had taught her that she was blessed with abilities, that those with her powers should strive to help those who couldn’t save themselves.

But right now, at this moment, she felt something like regret at saving Jaime Lannister. Brienne knew who he was as soon as the sun hit his body. The man glistened. A golden heir to Tywin’s mining empire.

Brienne herself worked at the mines. It was not a glamorous job, but it had allowed her to miraculously prevent accidents that would have otherwise ended in tragedy. It also gave her an excuse for her extremely toned body. Her friend Cat had once described her as “permanently buff” and that was, more or less, the case.

Back to the man who was looking at her petulantly (from her arms, because she had yet to put him down). Brienne had seen Jaime lose control of his car. One minute he was driving through the bridge and the next he was falling off it. Thankfully for her, Tarth was still (despite Tywin Lannister’s ambitions) a mostly untouched island and no one had been around to witness a 6’3’’ woman in shorts fly straight at a falling car and cushion its fall with her body.

Three things happened in quick succession:

  1. Brienne saved Jaime’s life.
  2. Jaime passed out from the impact.
  3. Brienne flew them over to the shore.



“Are you a woman?” The Lannister heir said, way too derisively for a man that looked like a drowned cat. A beautiful and magnificent cat but, still. “Or a cryptid?”

Brienne had heard worse. It still hurt. It always did.

“I just saved your life!” Brienne was shocked at his rudeness.

“How? Are you some kind of super-person?” Jaime protested, giving a small shove to Brienne’s shoulders. Brienne dropped him; she had a limit.

“What was that for?” Jaime protested, leaping up and wincing at the effort. He was about to go down again when Brienne caught him, again.

“You called me a _beast_ after I saved you,” she said, looking at him with disapproval. Jaime cast his eyes down and then up at hers again.

“I’m sorry… that was unworthy. I’m-”

“It’s fine. Pity about your car,” Brienne interrupted.

Jaime had found his footing and was staring intently at her. “I owe you, Lannisters always pay their debts,” His voice sounded strange, as if he was repeating something mechanically.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Brienne was offended he’d even think that. “I’d done that for anyone.” It was, somehow, the wrong thing to say.

“I thought I was _special_ , woman.”

“At least you admitted I am one.” She defended

“Well, it’s hard to say otherwise, in your current state.” Jaime smirked at her. Brienne looked down at her body, her soft cotton shorts were plastered to her front and the white shirt she had been wearing was almost transparent. She had no bra under it. She just turned around and walked away.

“Wait! Shit, wom- Fuck, I don’t even know your name!” Jaime hollered behind her.

_Brienne,_ she thought without stopping or turning, humiliation turning her face crimson. _My name is Brienne._


	6. let your warm hands break right through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absurdly, inexplicably, he felt blood rush to his cock. Considering Jaime had almost dropped of exhaustion and his blood pressure was dangerously low this was not the appropriate response.

Jaime Lannister had been speeding to his destination as if he actually wanted to get there. He had been exiled to the tropical shores of Tarth by his Father. A command that served the dual purpose of getting a more direct management and getting Jaime out of his sight.

Everything really had gone to hell between them after the _incident_. Jaime flexed his prosthetic, remembering the feeling when they had cut off his hand to send to Tywin. The ransom was not coming quickly enough for them.

When flexing he lost his grip on the wheel and then he fell. In the second between the air and the water he only thought this was a stupid way to die. Everything went black.

He was very surprised when he opened his eyes and saw a halo of white-blonde hair and two blue stars gazing down at him. Then the rest of whoever started to take shape and he realized that a giant with sapphire eyes was carrying him.

They were both extremely wet.

“Are you a woman?” One could not be sure, really, with that face. If they were a man, they had girl’s eyes. “Or a cryptid?” They were extremely tall and carrying him after all.

“I just saved your life!” She, the timbre was deep, but his savior was a she, explained.

“How? Are you some kind of super-person?” Jaime could not understand how he’d plunged to a watery grave and he was now cradled in this girl’s embrace. He gave her a small shove to look at her more fully. It must have been too hard, because she dropped him.

“What was that for?” He tried to jump upright but the world shifted beneath him, the heat of the sun and the adrenaline of falling off a bridge making him dizzy. The woman-cryptid caught him once more.

“You called me a _beast_ after I saved you,” she said, before he could thank her. Jaime cast his eyes down but was met with the undeniable proof that she was a woman. Her clothes were sheer because of the water. He could see drops of water clinging to the blond hair between her legs, her nipples were hard and visible through her shirt.

Absurdly, inexplicably, he felt blood rush to his cock. Considering Jaime had almost dropped of exhaustion and his blood pressure was dangerously low this was _not_ the appropriate response.

He looked up to distract himself and was met with hurt and concerned blue eyes. _Her gaze is so clear._ The idea that she was so innocent she didn’t even think to hide her expressions did not help his current predicament. Jaime started talking instead:

“I’m sorry… that was unworthy. I’m-”

“It’s fine. Sorry about your car,” She interrupted. Gently putting him down. If she did not want his thanks what, then? Money? Had she recognized him? Was that it? The idea tempered his arousal considerably and made disgust course through him. 

“I owe you, Lannisters always pay their debts,” Jaime said, monotone, he would pay, he didn’t have to be happy about it.

She looked utterly, completely, shocked at his words. “You don’t owe me anything! I’d done that for anyone.”

Jaime felt a rush of anger at them both. At her for apparently jumping into life-threatening situations constantly. And at him for finding it tugged something inside him that felt dangerously like the dreams of a young boy that dreamed of knights. The world had killed that kid, she would not bring him back.

“I thought I was _special_ , woman.” He said, petulantly, even to his own ears. 

“At least you admitted I am one.” She countered; huge mouth set on a frown.

“Well, it’s hard to say otherwise, in your current state.” Jaime smirked at her. He had never learned not to flirt, and she might be naïve and ugly, but she was built like a massive wall. Toned and well-defined arms and thighs, he could also get very used to those freckles. Not to say anything to the blush currently inching its way across her face and neck.

_Where else do you blush, hmm?_

She bolted. Literally, how she moved so fast with her bulk was a mystery Jaime had no time to contemplate.

“Wait! Shit, wom- Fuck, I don’t even know your name!” Jaime yelled behind her. She did not stop, left him there, with a totaled car, a saved life and soaked.

And, he noticed with a groan, an erection.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it! Sorry for the delay, and thank you to Mani for the beta. And to nire, slips, and firesign23!


End file.
